


Shave & No Haircut

by KuriKoer



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 69, M/M, Oral Sex, Shaving, Shaving Kink, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 23:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10684842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuriKoer/pseuds/KuriKoer
Summary: Tony lets Bucky do a thing to him. Then they do things to each other.





	Shave & No Haircut

**Author's Note:**

> dedication: pizza for theicescholar

Tony Stark lay on his back, staring up, Bucky's weight holding him down, knees pressing to his sides. The metal hand held his head in place, thumb under his chin, four fingers in an arch from his cheekbone to his ear. Unmoving, but it could crush his skull like a calcium-deficient egg, he knew. Bucky's other hand, flesh and blood and precision, held a mean-looking blade, something old and big and sharpened with love and care.

"This is it, then," he said.

"Stop talking," Bucky hissed. The frown of concentration on his face was terrifying. Tony's eyes flicked up to the ceiling and then back to the clear blue eyes. The man looming above him took a deep breath, and lowered the razor.

Tony had shaved with a straight razor before, his father had forced him to learn how, but that had been a small, elegant thing, and this was... not. Also he was lying naked on the bathroom floor, letting another man who was not in any way a licensed hair stylist style his precious trademark goatee.

"The edges are pointy," he murmured through clenched teeth, barely moving his lips.

"Tony, I swear to God, if you move another muscle." The threat was growled under Bucky's breath, and Tony inhaled once, through his nose, and then didn't move.

It didn't take long, probably, if there had been a clock in the bathroom, or if Tony could've asked JARVIS to time them, or if, as he'd suggested at one point and was rebuffed, Bucky's arm had had a glow digit screen implanted discreetly in the wrist. It felt long. It felt forever, by Tony's internal clock, which admittedly was the least synchronized thing he'd ever owned. His back was cold. His face was hot. Bucky's breathing sounded heavy, or maybe it was just the silence between them. Plus, and Tony couldn't ignore or forget or deny it, he was hard. Really, point-at-the-ceiling, proud-flagpole-nonsense hard.

He tried to squint down and see if Bucky was, too, but that low growl started again and he kept his eyes firmly fixed on Bucky's forehead instead. Heavy weight on him, moving minutely to follow his arm, the hand he was shaving Tony with. The smell of his body over the smell of the foam tickling Tony's nose. The gentleness of thick metal fingers turning his chin this way and that. A tiny noise squeezed its way out of Tony's throat.

Bucky froze. Then, very deliberately, he slid a couple of inches back.

Tony's entire body, his years studying martial arts, his whole life of keeping a steady check on himself at all costs, that was all he could do not to move a muscle when his cock - hard, quivering - met with Bucky's ass, just barely brushing against it.

That noise again, and Tony's eyes wider, and he knew he looked like he was begging. But he didn't say a word.

"Don't move," Bucky whispered, and there was no need for that reminder. Tony didn't, wouldn't, couldn't move. Not now. Not until whatever spell was weaved here between them was broken.

The razor returned, sliding smooth and unerring, the little tilt Tony knew from experience meant the pointy edges were just right. When the razor left his face this time, Bucky settled back more, rising a little on his knees and sinking again. Tony wanted to bite his tongue to stop the noise, but that would've moved his jaw and he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Another slide of the blade and Tony saw the smirk edging its way from Bucky's eyes to his curving mouth, felt as the warmth of it moved Bucky's chest with a deep chuckle that was more a breath than a voice. Two more and the clink of the razor against the bowl of hot water next to Tony's head.

"Don't move," Bucky said again, urgent, rising to his feet - Tony's body suddenly colder, bereft, but he was free to breathe and he was panting, stomach going up and down in quick successive shallow motions - hurrying away, his dick as hard as Tony's, curved up to his stomach when he all but leaped across the room. He returned with a small towel, knelt next to Tony, wiped the foam from his face. Grinned down at him. "Wanna see it?"

"I see it," Tony breathed, because he could turn his head now, eyes following hungrily, tongue wetting his lips in anticipation.

"I meant do you wanna see your face," Bucky said with that quiet, secret laughter in his voice, and then just to be mean wrapped his hand around his own cock and stroked it slowly, showy.

Tony swallowed against the need in his throat and thought, I can get up and pounce him. But he didn't. He stayed down, hands clenching by his sides.

"Not exactly traditional aftershave," Bucky was saying, and then he ran his cock over Tony's cheek, the glide of skin both obscene and erotic, strangely new but still familiar. "Smooth," he said, satisfied, nodded to himself, repeated the process on Tony's other cheek.

Tony opened his mouth.

Bucky hesitated. "Are you sure?"

"Look, if you don't _want_ a blow job," Tony started saying, and then he wasn't saying much at all, instead bending his head back and arching his back, taking as much of Bucky's cock as he could in the awkward position, and still he didn't try to get up or roll over. He just sucked the cock deeper into his mouth, the artificial scent of shaving cream disappearing under the heavy scent of Bucky's arousal.

"Wait a sec," Bucky choked out the words, retreated, shifted, returned, and Tony sucked him back in lovingly, like coming back home. Registered the moving body over his, the warmth, and then Bucky's mouth on his cock, taking it down - finally - warming it with that hot mouth, soothing it with that skilled tongue, his hair brushing over Tony's thighs. Tony sucked him in deeper, was rewarded with an answering, mirroring move. Groaned deep around the cock in his mouth and just like that, like a soap bubble bursting, his hands were free. Rising to Bucky's sides, caressing up his thighs, over his back, wherever Tony could reach. Grasping his ass - thinking for a moment, the muscles there are like iron - parting and then squeezing it. Bucky sucking him faster. Tony running a finger on the back of Bucky's balls, then grabbing his ass again, nosing his balls and tightening his lips around the cock in his mouth.

Bucky lifted his head, let Tony's cock pop out, took his balls into his mouth instead. Let Tony's cock rub against the side of his face, in his hair. It was soft, subtle touches, caresses that weren't really there, and Tony loved it and he hated how much it wasn't enough, and he whined and bucked up. Got held down, two hands pressing on his thighs, and he thought dimly that if he concentrated he could tell them apart, sure, but it was amazing how alike they were, how they moved the same, unhesitating. Bucky let his balls slip out and was mouthing at the root of his cock. Tony sucked him in vigorously and tapped a finger against his asshole, just making his presence known, driving Bucky crazy like he was driving Tony crazy.

"Nng," Bucky said and then he was sucking Tony, and Tony was sucking him, and that circle of pleasure was everything in Tony's world for a long, long time that ended too quickly.

There was not a trace of the scent of shaving cream left in his nose.

Bucky was resting his head against Tony's thigh, panting heavily, and his hair was now too much, just enough, softness dragging and soothing over Tony's spent cock.

Tony grabbed him around the waist and gently moved him aside, letting him crash to the floor instead of holding himself up on his knees to avoid crushing Tony's face. Bucky remained curled on his side, smiling blissfully at him. Tony tried to stand up.

His back was stiff, both freezing cold and glued with sweat to the tiles.

"I'm gonna need a little help," he said, staring helplessly at the ceiling and laughing silently.

Bucky groaned, stayed still for another long moment, then shuffled to his knees. He wasn't really an active afterglow person. If left alone, he might as well have fallen asleep on the bathroom floor. As it was, he gave Tony a hand, helped them both to their feet, and leaned against the wall, yawning.

Tony stood on shaky legs and checked himself in the mirror. His face was red, his hair mussed. There was a dollop of come hanging on the tip of his moustache at the corner of his mouth.

But the moustache itself, the beard and all, that was perfect. He smoothed it down with his fingers, catching Bucky's eye in the mirror and licking the side of his mouth, provocative, deliberate. Bucky offered him a tired grin in response.

"It's really good," Tony said, turning his face from side to side, checking his reflection. "Could be a career in it for you."

"Yeah, I mean, that extra personal touch is definitely gonna reel 'em in," Bucky said, sarcasm marred by another giant yawn.

Tony turned back to him, grinning. "Hey, no, that's for tower residents only," he protested with a twinkle in his eye.

"Good to know," Bucky said, and the fact he didn't have a comeback suggested to Tony that he was about to fall asleep standing up. He took the small towel and wet it in water, using it to wipe his face, then Bucky's, then Bucky's groin, then his own.

He dropped it in the sink and then reached for the other man, still leaning on the wall and gazing into space.

"Come on. To bed with you."

Bucky let himself be guided without protest, but he did mumble, "With you too."

"Yeah, okay." Tony didn't feel all that sleepy. "I'll order a pizza, go over some blueprints I have waiting."

"You can do that," Bucky said magnanimously around another yawn. He let his head drop on Tony's shoulder as they tumbled down the corridor.

Tony led him into the bedroom, dragging a blanket over him before curling in by his side. "JARVIS?"

"Pizza will arrive by elevator in estimated fourteen minutes." The voice was softer than usual, the lights dim. Even the hologram of his folders was at half opacity, a muted blue glow over the bed.

Tony smiled. He leaned over Bucky's sleeping form. "And maybe tomorrow you'll let me trim your hair," he murmured quietly.

"Not on your life," Bucky replied, not bothering to open his eyes.

Tony chuckled and sat back, looking through his blueprints until the pizza arrived.


End file.
